Could Have Been
by LoliTurk
Summary: "I'm sick and tired of people telling me what I could haven been. What about what I want to be?"  "What do you want to be then?"  He laughed darkly, like life was a sick joke. "Yours"   Jason/Tim
1. Chapter 1

Tim always thought of himself as being a good kid.

He got good grades in school, played nice with the other kids, so why was he in Arkham? Arkham was a place for psychopathic villains and loons who think their goldfish can talk.

It wasn't a place for good little boys who said their prayers and never lied to their parents. Then again, he couldn't say he was a _good kid _anymore.

For as long as Tim Drake could remember, he looked up to the original Robins. They were the epitome of good kids!

They were the ideal he wanted to grow up to be. Dick Grayson was the kind older brother that everyone wanted, even if he was rarely in Gotham. He always had good advice and helped whenever he could.

However, Tim didn't know much about the second Robin.

Sure, he had _seen_ the glass case and he _heard_ the story of how he died. But what was he like when he was alive? Was Jason strong? Did he lie awake at night, afraid of failure? Even when he asked, he received little more than grumbles before the subject was abruptly changed.

Confusion was an understatement when he saw the formerly dead Robin in the flesh. Whatever he was expecting, the gun-slinging hellion wasn't it. Gone forever was the image of a tragic Robin looking for redemption.

Jason had become the iconic bad-boy that all parents warned their daughters about. He shrugged off wounds and wore tight jeans like a second skin. He was strong, confidant, and knew what he wanted in life.

And like the naïve dolt he was, the third Robin was in the sterile visiting room of Arkham Asylum. No one there batted an eye when the boy wonder asked for a private session with a dangerous criminal.

The vigilante was handcuffed to the chair, but both of them knew the restraints would be on the floor before they were finished.

Tim was against a wall across from him and more than a little nervous. He was taking a huge risk by simply by being here and he didn't want to think about what would happen if Bruce found out.

The older man seemed different from the last time they spoke, or rather the last time Jason had his hands around the younger's neck. "You're probably wondering why I asked you here…" Tim started, before a pair of handcuffs clattered against the floor.

Jason raised a cigarette to his lips and sneered "…and I wonder why you decided to show up. _Alone, _for fuck's sake." There was a sense of disbelief in his voice that was out of place. "It's not like I haven't tried to kill you a couple dozen times."

The boy brushed off the sting and kept going. "We shouldn't be fighting like this, I mean, we're both trying to save Gotham. We should be on the same side."

In an instant, Jason's already foul mood darkened. He was walking on thin ice and it was only going to get worse. "Jesus Christ! Is Bruce such a coward that he'd send _you_ here to-?"

"I'm here because I want this damn war to stop!" The boy yelled, exasperated. "You were a Robin once. You shouldn't be here, not like this." He made a small shrieking noise from the back of his throat. _Please God, not now…_

Jason let the boy compose himself, watching the emotional display in stunned silence. His mind was scrambling to understand the kindness shown by an enemy. Was the kid going to cry?

"I shouldn't be the first one to say that I missed you, and that I'm glad you came back." Robin resisted the urge to touch his eyes and let his mask hide what he really wanted to say. The forbidden words always came painfully close every time he spoke to him. He felt naked and transparent, like his heart was beating for all to see.

After a silence that seemed to last forever, the older vigilante asked a strange question "…Your name is Tim Drake right?"

He nodded and didn't utter a word of protest when Jason crossed the room. The distance between them could be measured in inches and miles. Tim was pinned to the wall and was sure the man could feel his legs shaking through his clothes. He was so small and young. Jason could take anything, do anything, and there would be no resistance.

The second Robin slowly peeled off the boy's mask, gently taking Tim's face in hands as rough as sandpaper. "I want to see your eyes." Jason asked and assured "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you anymore."

Tim looked up sheepishly, shaded blue eyes brave enough to meet stormy green. Softly saying "I know" Jason unconsciously wetted his lips and took the boy's first kiss.

It was gentler than he expected, but the taste of need and loneliness was unmistakable.

Gloved hands gripped broad shoulders as he moaned in pleasure, afraid to lose the connection he ached for. A warm, hot tongue massaged his own. Tim body was betraying him, he wanted too much too quickly. He clung to the heat in front of him and arched away from the cold, unforgiving stone. He desperately needed to cool down but couldn't bring himself to let go.

Jason sensed something was off and pulled away reluctantly. A rosy blush had grown over the boy's face, his skin burning to the touch. He saw the way Tim caressed the spandex material covering his thighs, barely allowing his fingertips to touch sensitive skin before looking away in embarrassment.

He felt dirty for eliciting these feelings in a child, and the feeling grew tenfold for liking it. "You should go home, before someone notices you're gone." He acted like he didn't know and took his hands off Tim's hips, disturbed that they were there at all. The kid couldn't be more than sixteen. Fuck, this was wrong on so many levels.

Tim nodded and was grateful for the save. He was still high off the lip-lock and refused to come down anytime soon. He fixed his tousled hair while Jason returned to his position as the restrained prisoner. There were a lot of questions hanging in the air, like whether or not this was a one-time thing.

Robin had his hand on the doorknob and his heart jumped in his chest when he heard the vigilante talk. "You forgot your mask." He said simply, holding the domino mask between his fingers. Tim reached out to take it back when Jason took the opportunity to lace their fingers and say "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Robin blushed and said "Sure" before flitting off into what's left of the night.

"Hm…" Jason picked up what was left of his cigarette off the floor, relighting it with a silver lighter. He drew a deep breath and the smoke warmed his chest. He let it go and watched the white smoke drift away. "He's kinda cute when he smiles."


	2. Chapter 2

Tim bypassed the electronic locks and snuck in the window just a few hours after midnight. He felt like he was at the top of the world, like nothing could go wrong. Hopefully the billionaire playboy was still living it up at the movie premiere. He could get changed and be in bed before anyone knew the difference. At least, that was the theory.

The dining room light clicked on almost instantly, revealing a kindly old man. "Out for a walk, Master Tim?" Alfred asked, still dressed in his nightclothes. "Little warm for the tights, don't you think?"

The teen balked like an animal in a trap, the residual feeling of bliss deflating like a balloon. "Uh, yeah! So I'm going to bed, big day tomorrow…" He fibbed as he tried crept towards the stairs.

Alfred grabbed his sleeve and led him into the dining room. "Oh no you don't, you're not getting off the hook that easily." He sat the teen down and poured them each a glass of milk. The elderly man was doing his best as a surrogate father, assuring that "You don't have to worry about him, Master Bruce isn't home yet."

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. _"Hey Bruce, remember that kid you adopted and made Robin? You know, the one that was brutally murdered and came back from the dead to seek revenge? I've decided that we should forgive him for killing all those people and you should totally let me go out with him!"_ Nothing could possibly go wrong.

The elderly man reached across to touch the boy's hand, snapping him out of his daydreams. "If you're in trouble, you can tell me. I won't tell Bruce if you don't want me to."

Tim looked up from the table, rubbing his arm nervously. Take a deep breath, explain everything, and hope nothing explodes. "I'm not in trouble, but you have to promise that you won't freak out or tell Bruce."

Alfred promised with a smile. He takes care of a grown man that dresses up like a bat, freaking out was impossible.

The boy continued, "I've fallen for someone, someone who has done bad things with good intentions. I went to see him tonight and-"

"What kind of 'bad things' are we talking about? Shoplifting?" The elderly man asked, before realizing what was in the last part. "Wait, you went to see _him_?"

Tim cringed and forced out the next part. "I think I'm in love with Jason." He admitted and a tinge of pain flashed over his face when he saw Alfred's mortified expression.

Tim could see all the things Alfred wanted to say: that he was crazy, that he was making a mistake, that Jason could very easily kill him. "I-I think you should go to your room." The Englishman stammered from shock and dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. "We'll finish this later."

"He's still a good person, Alfred. He just needs some help." The teen stood and went to his room, but there was not a single drop of regret about going to Arkham.

…

He came home from school the next day and found Bruce waiting for him with a sour look on his face.

"Where is he?" His mentor growled.

Tim didn't spare a second glance as he set his backpack down. "Where's who?" _What now? Did the Joker escape again?_ He wanted this over with as soon as possible, he only had a few hours before he had to get ready for patrol.

When the boy made a motion to leave, Bruce grabbed his arm and harshly yanked him back. Tim yelped in surprise and pain. "Let me go, you're hurting me!" He cried.

If Bruce knew his adopted son was hurt, he didn't show it. "Jason Todd. He escaped this morning and stole a revolutionary smart bomb en route to Star Labs. Four guards were killed in the process." His mentor spat out the words, like he wanted each piece of information to be sharp enough to cut flesh.

Tim blinked in disbelief, why didn't know about this? "That can't be right…He would never-!"

The grip tightened, and the teen could feel the bruises forming. "The bomb has enough force to vaporize half of the city, thousands will die.I'll ask you again, _where is he?_"

The teen shook his head, his mind still racing to process the situation. "I-I don't know, he didn't tell me anything!" It _couldn't_ have been him. Jason isn't a mass-murder!

"_You _were the last person to see him. Where the hell is he!"

"I don't know!" He cried.

Bruce slapped him across the face.

There was a loud _crack _as the blow landed and the teen was knocked to the ground. Gingerly, Tim touched his bleeding lip.

_He hit me…_

"Get up." Bruce demanded coldly. "I didn't train you to be this weak."

_He actually hit me._

Tim pulled himself up to his feet. "You're right, you trained me to be a soldier. Not a human being." He spat blood onto a cream-colored carpet. "I quit."

He picked up his jacket and headed for the door when he heard his former mentor shout "If you walk out that door, you can never come back."

At this point he was beyond caring.

…

Tim had been walking the streets for hours.

Betrayal and loneliness weighted down every step he took. He was lost.

Tim drew his flimsy jacket tighter around his frame. It was unseasonably cold and it started to rain. He ignored the cars, even as one splashed water on him as it drove past. He didn't know or care where he was going.

One family was taken from him and the second he threw away. He made himself believe that this would have happened sooner or later. He even threw his cell down a storm-drain when Barbara tried to call him.

The teen found brief respite from the rain under the roof of a bar and watched a prostitute apply make-up over a black eye. Even after all these years, the streets still looked exactly the same. It chilled him to the bone to think that everything was pointless.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe nothing they did mattered. The same batch of criminals was back on the streets and doing the dame crimes.

The roar of an engine caught his attention, it was a lion's roar compared to the usual drone. He turned his head to see a shiny red motorcycle and it didn't take a second glance to know whose it was.

_So he did escape._

The teen's face grew hot as his would-be rescuer slowed to stop at his side. This was ridiculous and implausible. "Are you supposed to be my knight in shining armor?" He asked, speaking over the pouring rain.

Jason leaned back and shook his head. "Just shut up and get on already." He teased and tossed his helmet to the boy.

Tim could see his reflection in polished red fiberglass.

He shouldn't be this happy.

He shouldn't be happy knowing that he might be the reason Jason broke out and possible return to crime.

He shouldn't be this happy to see him smile.

There were still too many questions that weren't answered. How did Jason know where he was? Or that he was wasn't at home? What about the bomb?

Tim looked up to find the vigilante still waiting.

He didn't have a home to go back to anymore and then again, neither did Jason. The older man silently asked to be trusted, and the teen couldn't refuse.

He got on the bike and shyly took the kindness offered to him. His arms found their way around a strong waist, pressing himself to body in front of him. Grateful to find that it was still warm.

They arrived a few minutes later at a cheap apartment near crime alley. The building was falling apart and the old stairs creaked under them as they walked. Once they were inside, the boy was able to take a hot shower and change into some dry clothes.

It was a little awkward with Jason's tee-shirt being at least three sizes too big. He took an odd sense of pride in wearing it, like a girl wearing her boyfriend's jacket.

He walked out of the bathroom to find the vigilante at his desk, cutting a piece of wire for some crude machinery. Tim leaned over his shoulder. "What are you making?" The teen asked, partly out of curiosity and partly out of worry.

Jason gave more of a grunt than an answer.

Tim pressed the issue further by asking "Does it have it anything to do with Star Labs?"

The vigilante glanced up from his work, setting the cutters down with a click. "Would it bother you if I said 'yes'?" He asked, taking a minute to gauge the boy's expression.

Tim flinched and his body fought to keep the color in his face. "No."

"_Well, that was unexpected."_ Jason thought to himself. He leaned back in his chair, reaching for his cigarettes. Both of them were waiting for the other to speak. A crack and a flash of flame later, Tim spoke up. "Because you wouldn't use it, you wouldn't hurt an innocent."

The second Robin was quiet as the words sunk in. He had dealt with a lot of insane things in his life and survived most of them. He'd been stabbed, beaten, blown-up, and tortured. He's jumped through windows into a symphony of gunfire without even a second thought.

_But this…_

Being alone with an underage boy, with_ Tim, _his mind corrected, was frightening.

The name itself was enough to make his hair stand on end. Jason used to hate him, _despise him, _for the sole reason of being his replacement. Nothing more than an object to project his own self-loathing onto, he wasn't supposed to be human.

Yet, here he was. Human and alive and disgustingly so, still wearing the sweet lace of innocence. He bravely walked into the lion's den for the second time now, and the beast was altogether mystified. However, the beast was neither blind nor dumb.

He knew the boy was looking for affection, maybe even love. On the ride over, he had felt Tim's warmth on his back and his hands just above his belt.

It was maddening.

He took another hit of nicotine. "Actually, I was fixing a radio. I use it to pick up police scanners and occasionally spy on you guys. They were looking for you, they even called in Dick from Bludhaven." He stated and saw Tim's mood brighten. He checked off where they already looked and went from there. "I don't keep explosives in the apartment anyway, it's too risky."

Strangely, the boy's face didn't fall by his admittance. "Why did you take it in the first place?" Tim asked.

"To keep it from being taken by someone else." Jason answered and of course the boy asked who. "People would do far worse things to you than kill." He said sternly, shooting down the teen's offer of help before it was even asked.

The vigilante extinguished his half-gone cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "It's getting pretty late. There's a bedroom, first door to the left." He sighed, gesturing to the hallway.

Tim didn't really like that idea and asked. "And where are you going to sleep?"

"Couch" He shrugged. He's done it before.

The teen looked at his feet and nervously offered "That's not really fair, I-I mean, it's your home and all."

Jason's eyes narrowed, his ears catching the shyness and stutter. _**No.**_

Like a train racing towards an unsuspecting person on the tracks, Tim kept going. "I could sleep on the couch or…" _Hell no._ "…we could always share. I don't take up much space." _Wrong on so many levels._

"Sure" _Fuck! _"Yes!..I mean, no!"

Tim raised an eyebrow in confusion, not knowing what to make of the vigilante's sudden hysteria. Neither did Jason.

Both of them were blushing, although for different reasons. The vigilante was dazed and needed sleep. "I-I'm gonna sleep on the couch…and not be a pedophile."

"_Pederast, _actually…" Tim corrected, not helping his case. "…little too old."

Jay looked up from his hands and asked "Should I be worried that you know what that word means?" The older man got up and started walking away, shaking his head in surrender. "Nevermind."

"Where are you going?" The teen asked, afraid the other would leave him alone.

He opened the first door to the left, leaning against the doorway for a moment to say "To sleep. Join me or don't, it's your choice."

Even though he couldn't see it, he heard the mattress creak under Jason's weight as he lay down. The teen's heart beat faster, and his face turned red. He was a little scared, but that was normal right?

He gathered up his courage and headed down the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim couldn't remember the last time he slept an entire night. Ever since he became Robin, his nighttime hours were smashed apart by disasters or nightmares.

Maybe tonight was different because he awoke in the arms of someone he cared about.

Sometime while he was asleep, Jason's arms found their way around the teen's waist. He was snug and safe in his embrace, smiling at the feeling of hot breath on his neck. He was happy knowing that older man cared, even if his conscious mind still wouldn't admit it. Tim wished he could keep this moment forever.

In the morning light, he could see the scars covering Jason's body. White lines danced over arms and chest, the teen could only guess at what made them. He reached upward to trace a jagged line down his shoulder. The skin was warm under his fingertips and he enjoyed the feeling of firm muscle under his palms.

A dangerous thought crossed his mind. He glanced up at the sleeping form and assumed he wouldn't wake for a while. Shifting to get enough room, he hesitated to kiss him gently. Jason made a small noise but didn't wake.

Tim bit his lip in anticipation, taking this as consent. His hands moved to a toned chest and toyed with sensitive nipples. Rosy lips parted to moan the word "…_Tim_…"

The teen's hair stood on end at the sound and his heart pounded in his ears. _He's thinking of me._

The teen moved a little closer and slid his hands down to the waistline of green pajama pants, leaning in to kiss his lips.

Green eyes snapped open to meet blue. Jason was wide-awake and pushed the teen away. "What the hell!" He screamed.

Caught and humiliated. Tim wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean-" He stammered, realizing he had made a huge mistake. He reached out in apology only to have his hand slapped away.

Jason found a bottle of whiskey under the bed and took a drink, strangely grateful for the way it burned his throat. When did he become a masochist? _"We can't do this."_ He said, exhausted.

Tim blinked in disbelief and softly asked "…What?" praying that he heard wrong.

The older vigilante kept his eyes fixed on something in the distance, his expression was troubled. "You heard me"

There was a knife stuck in the teen chest. He made a high-pitched sound of pain, thinking _"I can't take this anymore." _He pulled himself up and walked out.

Jason breathed in the toxic smoke and forced himself to believe he was doing the right thing by letting him leave. _He's a sweet kid, it won't take him long to find someone else. _

The words _"Someone better"_ slid out of a dark corner of his mind. It was true, Tim could capture the heart of any one of his "Super-Friends" with just a pout. The clone was a good choice. He was the invulnerable Boy Scout.

Tim would never have to be afraid or stay awake wondering where he was.

…

The teen found his clothes and changed quickly. For a moment he held the faded cotton T-shirt in his hands. "_It was fun while it lasted." _He thought bitterly. "_But I know when I'm not wanted." _He tossed it into a hamper and walked towards the door.

Jason was standing there, coolly leaning against a wall as he watched him pass. This was his last chance. The teen stood up a little straighter and said "All I want is a chance to be with you."

The older vigilante shook his head. "You're a kid, you don't know what you want."

Tim's eyes narrowed in anger and his hands were clenched at his sides. "We've spent years fighting the same war you are. If I'm old enough to die from it, I'm old enough to know who I want." Jason was taken aback by when the boy grabbed his belt in desperation and pressed their bodies together.

The teen looked up him with beautiful blue eyes and said "I can tell you feel something for me, and I want a chance to turn it into love."

They stared into each other's eyes for the longest time and the second Robin wanted him more than anything in his entire life. Jason could hear his nails scratch the wallpaper as forced himself not to touch.

He was cracking.

Tim stood on his tiptoes to brush their lips together. He made a confession and hoped it could save them. "I think I love you…"

He cracked.

Jason grabbed him by the hair and crushed their mouths together in a searing kiss. In the violent display of affection, it was surprising that no one split a lip in the process.

He could taste the alcohol in his lips. The teen didn't know if it was him or the whiskey that caused the butterflies in his stomach.

The older man's hands slid under the teen's shirt as he pulled away to taste his exposed throat. Pale skin turned red from sloppy kisses and bites. Tim's back was to the wall, secretly wishing he would leave a mark. The thought of being dominated made his heart beat faster.

He didn't notice his pants were unzipped until a hand pushed inside.

Cotton briefs were soft and smooth under the older man's touch. They were candy-apple red and it was hard to tell if they were supposed to be innocent or sexual.

A soft whimper escaped the boy's throat as Jason was anything but gentle.

"Ja…Jason!" Tim gasped, eagerly bucking his hips into the touch. "_Please…_" The boy pleaded, unsure of what he was even asking for.

Jason pulled his hand away at the sound of a crash from downstairs.

Tim groaned in disappointment and asked what was wrong, afraid he messed up.

The older man simply threw him a box from a shelf, giving a simple order "Take this and leave, they'll be here soon." The teen was puzzled by the pocket-sized tin and found inside the coordinates and access codes to a location just outside of Gotham. His eyes widened in realization.

"Jason, I'm not going to-!" He shouted, aghast.

There was a painfully familiar 'click' of ammo being loaded into an assault rifle. "Yes, you are." Jason corrected and spoke the next words with a calm that was almost frightening. "I can handle torture, what I can't handle is you getting hurt."

Tim didn't have time to let the words sink in before the vigilante pulled him for one last kiss before pushing him out of a third-story window.

Training and instinct came together to break his fall before the air was alive with gunfire.

Would he stand by the man he loved and betray his trust or abandon him to save the city? He was hanging by a pipe while everything else hung by a thread. The rusted metal creaked under his weight and would soon send him plummeting down.

Jason trusted him, now he had to trust Jason.

…

Meanwhile he was dealing with his own set of problems. These weren't ordinary goons.

They used plastic explosives to blow off the door and found the Red Hood waiting with guns blazing. There were eight of them total and his shots met high-end body armor. Judging from the way they moved, they were US soldiers turned mercenary.

He snorted at the thought. This is too easy.

One assailant had the nerve to break his coffee table on the way down. A sweeping kick sent one to his knees at his feet. He pressed the gun to the back of the man's head and something strange happened.

He hesitated.

And in Gotham, you never forget one of the first laws of the street.

_If you don't pull the trigger, someone else will._


	4. Chapter 4

The freedom of flight did little to calm his nerves. He was afraid and he didn't know why. The teen jumped from rooftop to rooftop, moving as quickly as he could. He was being reckless, thinking with his heart instead of his head.

He dove for the next ledge blindly and aged concrete crumbled under his weight. Dangling six stories above the street and he refused to fall. Sharp rock cut his hands as he grabbed the edge of the roof.

A gloved hand reached out to him, pulling him up and into a warm embrace. Tim closed his eyes in surrender to a fantasy about someone else.

Sweet cologne met his nose, and the dream was dead before it could really begin. It just wasn't him.

Dick had missed him horribly, and worry was clear on his face. Bandages were wrapped around the teen's bloodied hands and he knew it was his fault. He should have been involved from the start, then none of this would have happened.

Tim pulled a few crinkled papers from his pocket and asked if he could deliver them to Bruce. He gave Dick a hasty explanation of what happened and there were a thousand questions his older brother wanted to ask.

He honestly doubted Jason would lose in a fight, but it was clear that Tim wouldn't go home until he knew for sure. And the thought of sending him back to the ex-Robin alone made his skin crawl. "I'm going with you"

Tim shook his head. "I can take care of this by myself."

"Outnumbered, unarmed, and unmasked? Tough odds." He teased with a smile before handing his little brother a staff.

The two of them made their way back to what was left of the apartment.

…

Books were torn from the shelves and thrown across the floor. Everything that could be broken, was. The place was deserted.

Blood was splattered on the carpet and clung to a shattered coffee table. There was a flash of panic on Tim's face. Frantically, he started checking rooms and called out into the silence in an act of helpless worry.

"Jason! Where are you?" He cried, opening a door to find it empty like all the others. "This…This isn't funny anymore…" He pleaded, hoping this was just a cruel joke.

Dick couldn't believe it, none of this seemed possible. "Don't worry, we'll find him."

The teen took up a piece of cloth from the floor, which he assumed was from one of the attackers. There was a dry, orange and black substance that had rubbed off on it. "Rust and soot" he mused. Judging from the color it had to be from someplace near saltwater and a furnace.

If Jason was captured, he had to be somewhere in the industrial district. There was a steel mill there owned by Roman Sionis, otherwise known as the Black Mask.

…

Jason hated drowning.

It was way up on his list of least favorite things. It ranked somewhere between Grayson and the sick feeling you get in your stomach when you wake up alone.

The natural response to it was full-on panic, because well… Let's face it, death sucks.

His head was pulled out of the water and he desperately gasped for air before being pushed back down.

Minutes after Tim left, he made a rookie mistake and got shot for it. A bullet lodged itself in his gut and everything went downhill from there.

It didn't take long for a plastic bag to be thrown over his head and he was tossed into the back of a van like a bag of dirty laundry. Blackness spread over his eyes as his body starved for air.

A bright light shone in his face and his head was swimming. The situation looked grim, captive and wounded were never a good combination. A cheap bandage had been slapped over his wound and tugged at his skin. After all, it wouldn't be good if he dropped dead before he talked.

It slowed the bleeding to little more than a trickle. His vision was still hazy. Blobs of color smeared and danced before his eyes, nausea rose in his stomach.

His wrists were tied down with twine, so every move tore at his skin. Escape would be difficult, if not impossible. If he could still breathe, he could still escape.

Black Mask was calmly watching the whole ordeal, rolling up his sleeves of a designer suit. There was a brief glint of diamond cufflinks. "You know, you've been a pain in my ass for a _long_ time." The mobster punched him across the face with a hard right hook.

A pistol was taken from a nearby table and he pressed the muzzle to his captive's teeth. "Now you tell me what I need to know or baby won't be so pretty anymore."

Jason's heart did an odd tinge in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he was afraid to die.

…

The feeling of metal hitting bone was oddly satisfying. It felt good to be fighting again and each step put him a little closer to saving Jason.

They had spent too much time on grunts and they needed every second. The mill was a large old building with many rooms and blind corridors.

A scream from downstairs helped narrow the search down.

The gunshots were getting louder the farther they went.

Jason was lying in the middle of the hall.

Tim ran to his side in an instant, freezing when the saw all of the blood. The red fluid ran down his side and his pants were slick with it. The man's skin was dangerously pale and cold. He was still conscious and managed to stand with great difficultly. He forced a smile and hid the wound with his hand. "Don't look at me like that, I just tripped okay?"

Two of his fingers were broken.

Tim slung one of the man's arms around his shoulder and helped him to the door. Dick took one look at him and said "He needs a hospital"

Nightwing made a call and a car was waiting for them outside. The eldest drove while the two others were stashed in the backseat. "We could take him to Alfred." The teen offered, not wanting to waste time cutting across town. Thankfully, there was a medical pack under the seat. Admittedly, he didn't know much about medicine but he could at least keep him stable.

Jason's vision faded in and out, and something tugged at his side. He was exhausted and every inch of him hurt. Sleep called out to him and never sounded so good.

The bullet-hole was as clean and wrapped as it could be, given the circumstances. It was out of his hands now. Jason slumped against him, resting his cheek on the teen's shoulder. "Tim…?" His voice was soft and far away. "…I'm sorry for being a jerk." The older man's head was too heavy for his shoulders and was hard to lift. He could see the worry on the teen's face and didn't want it to be there.

Jason held the teen's face in his hands and kissed him gently. He had to be strong for this boy.

The older man's hands were cold to the touch and Tim could feel his slow heartbeat.

Nightwing watched the tender scene from the rearview mirror.

He had feared for the teen's life when he found out he had feelings for the ex-Robin. Tim was still inexperienced and didn't realize how badly he could be heart by offering his heart to an enemy. Jason could use and abuse him as he saw fit, slitting his throat when there was nothing left.

If the damage was deep enough, Tim might even thank him for it. But seeing the teen utterly heartbroken at the thought of losing him was incredible.

Long gone were Jason's usual insults and sneers, instead replaced with a reassuring smile.

They actually cared about each other.

…

A few minutes later they were greeted by the too-familiar lights of the Batcave. Alfred was waiting for them with all the nessesary supplies ready to operate.

Dick had to help the ex-Robin onto an operating table. Green eyes were hazy as he clung to consciousness with his grip steadily slipping. Tim was beside him, doing his best to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. Doting like a wife to a husband.

Under Bruce's orders, the convict's wrists and ankles were tied down.

An oxygen mask was strapped over Jason's face and he reached for the teen's hand as far as the restraints would allow. Tim laced their fingers together and saw Alfred administer anesthesia through a syringe. He held on even after Jason's grip went slack.

Dick placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let Alfred work in peace and besides, you should get cleaned up." He said, trying his best to make him feel better. His older brother led him to a sink and the teen finally saw himself in the mirror.

Blood had soaked its way into his shirt and stained his hands. Dick ran some hot water and saw his brother staring at his hands in horror. "Tim…? Are you okay?"

Full realization of what was happening hit the teen like a freight train.

His hands were shaking, "Oh my god... I've killed him." He said in disbelief, eyes wide but unseeing. "He's dying and it's all my fault…JASON!" He screamed and bolted for the door in a mad rush.

_Please don't die! I need you!_

He was inches from the door when it was thrown open revealing a face he was in no hurry to see again. Tim skittered to a stop, narrowly avoiding a collision.

Bruce looked down on him from his great height with a look that could only be described as disdain. Bruce held the emotion back and his left hand twitched slightly. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

It was more of a statement than a question and the teen wondered if Bruce wanted to hit him again. If so, Tim was going to hit back.


	5. Chapter 5

Tim couldn't shake the feeling of the bugs crawling on his skin. He didn't want to be here.

Usually the den was his favorite room in the manor. He often stayed here during his free hours, absorbed in a good book. The plush seating and vast library made it a great place for research or to just enjoy the silence.

For the first time it was a cage and Tim couldn't stand it. He should have been at Jason's beside and his heart ached at the thought.

Bruce folded his hands into his lap, stone-faced as always. He was sitting in a leather-wrapped easy chair and didn't seem to care or notice the teen's distress.

Seeing his adoptive father like this was unnerving. Sure there were times when he was cold, but he always meant well and he usually stopped himself before things went too far. But, the way he was acting recently…something wasn't right.

Bruce sighed, letting go of some of his bottled anger. His adopted father asked a blunt question before he could speak. "Do you love him?"

He was taken aback, the sudden change in subject could cause whiplash. The answer was clear, if the deep ache in his chest was any clue. He had spent too many sleepless nights desperately trying to unravel a mystery hidden from view. In the beginning he thought he simply wanted information about the renegade Robin, before realizing his desires for something more personal. "Yes" He said firmly.

Bruce leaned back in his chair, searching the boy for any hint of weakness. His disapproval was obvious and there a hint of something else under the surface.

"You are a brilliant student."

The teen blinked, clearly not expecting the compliment. Before he could speak however, Bruce kept talking "You show the beginnings of a master detective and excel at whatever academia you choose. _However_…" He said sternly "…there are still things you do not understand:"

"Jason is severely mentally ill. There are layers of trauma that could take _years to diagnose_, not to mention _cure_. You cannot fix him." Bruce's anger was showing through now more than ever.

Tim's face grew hot with indignation and held back, trying to be the better person. He tried to defend his boyfriend "He doesn't need to be institutionalized! He's been hurt before and I understand that, but-"

"No, you don't!" His adopted father snapped so loudly the teen flinched in fear. "_You_ never knew him before he was taken away, _you_ have not gone over every police report-_every Arkham file_- looking for a cure!" Bruce was standing now with his fists to his sides.

"And how would you feel if your death was completely pointless!" He screamed back. A gate had broken open inside him and all the hurt came gushing forth. "That a few months later, the father you adored just adopted someone else to take your place and life went on like you never existed?" He was going way too far. _Tim stop now, before you say something you're going to regret._

"Barbara's still in a wheelchair, the Joker's still murdering by the dozen…Have we made _any _progress!"

_Too late._

Bruce forcefully grabbed him by the arm and the teen yelped in pain. Tim was dragged down the hall and was thrown down onto the floor of his room.

He ran to the door in time for it to be slammed shut in his face. The electronic locks snapped to tight and the teen was left pounding on the door, screaming to be let out.

His adopted father called back that he would be let out when he learned from his mistake.

…

Jason woke up furious and there was only so much indignation he could take. He was cold and uncomfortable and had no idea what time it was. What day was it? Tuesday? Fuck, what day was it when this started?

He tugged and pulled at the chains that bound him, unable to break free. What the hell, was he some kind of a dog? _C'mon! I'm housebroken, I promise!_

There were footsteps echoing around the cave. Instinctively his senses sought out anything that could tell him who it was. A voice in the back of his mind wished it was his teen. He didn't have the time to question the implications of that before the first Robin made his way to Jason's bedside.

The older man was warm and bright as he talked "Nice to see you up and well, I brought you some of Alfred's home-cooking." Dick set the tray down over the injured man's lap and pulled up a chair.

"_Somebody read my file."_ He thought to himself when he made a small note that he was only given a spoon to eat with. The food tasted familiar, but he couldn't recall the name.

The silence between them was awkward, and the former Robin had a pang of guilt in his chest. He reminded himself that Dick was very important to Tim, and he swallowed his pride. "So…Uh, still dating the alien chick?" He asked, a less-than-smooth attempt at conversation.

Dick gave him an odd look before bursting out laughing. Jason frowned. _Well fuck you too, so much for being nice._

"I'm sorry, it's just…" The younger man raised an eyebrow as Dick talked. "…This is the first time we've really talked since, y'know." He said with a shrug.

Dick folded his hands in his lap, he really missed his brother and he blamed himself for what happened. He had spent all of his time either in Bludhaven or with the Teen Titans, always trying to do too much.

That was probably why he was so protective of Tim. "I remember when we used to be so close. I don't know what I did to make you hate me, but I want you to know that I'm really sorry." 

Jason was at a loss for words. "I, um…" Dick interrupted with a wave of his hand. "No, never mind. It's not like we can change the past can we?"

The younger man said "Yeah, but we don't have to keep making the same dumb mistakes." Nightwing didn't know what Tim did to him, but he liked it.

He reached into his pocket and tossed a set of keys onto the bed. Dick got up to leave and said "Tim's room is on the second floor, third to the right."

Jason tilted his head in confusion and didn't understand as he asked "Why are you helping me? It's not like you have a reason to."

Dick shrugged, and said with a smile "I like having my little brother back. Oh, and one more thing…" At the mention of siblings, the man's demeanor shifted to one resembling a mother bear. "…If this turns out to be another one of your tricks, I _will_ hurt you."

Maybe Dick wasn't such a bad guy after all.

…

Tim had worn holes in the carpet with his pacing and collapsed on the bed in a huff. He had torn his bedroom apart, dismayed to find that all of his tools and devices were missing. Bruce had planned this.

His hands ached from pounding on the reinforced door and breaking it wasn't an option. The teen didn't know if he wanted to scream, cry, or punch something. A rattle at the door made him bolt upright, determined to escape.

When it swung open and the teen couldn't contain his excitement.

"Jason!" He cried out in joy and threw his arms around the former Robin, pressing his cheek to his chest. The large hands on him were comforting and Jason kissed his temple. They were holding on to the moment and each other, neither wanted to let go.

To Tim, it seemed like everything was trying to tear them apart. Black Mask, Bruce, Alfred...the list kept growing. Was he asking for too much?

The teen pulled away enough to slide his hands under Jason's shirt and smooth his thumbs over pristine bandages. It was wonderful to feel heat in his skin again. He wrapped his arms around Jason's neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

A low moan came from the older man's chest and he returned it just as he sucked on Tim's tongue.

_Jason was alive._

There was so much happiness in such a short sentence. Jason was alive and with him. "I thought I was going to lose you..." Tim admitted with more emotion than he intended. "…I was so scared." He wanted to touch him, if only to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

The former Robin took him by the hand and sat him down on the bed. He brushed soft, dark hair out of the teen's eyes. There was something so vulnerable about Tim in that moment, he never looked so lost before. There was a small noise as the teen crawled onto his lap to straddle his hips.

He rested his hands on Jason's chest and alarm bells went off in the former Robin's head. "I'm not going to leave, you don't have to prove anything to me." The former Robin assured, trying not to think of the pleasant heat on his hips.

The teen didn't listen as he pulled off his flimsy tee and tossed it aside. He kissed and nipped at the man's jaw-line, desperately pleading "Please Jason, let me have this."

This was something that both of them wanted and it was there since the moment they first kissed. Lurking beneath the surface like a great beast, as welcoming as a promise of forever.

The kiss was slow, gentle, to test the water and melt the last remains of ice. No matter what, Jason wouldn't risk hurting the boy for his own pleasure.

Hot breath on Tim's neck made him gasp while a wet tongue tasted the smooth skin. He never flinched as Jason's rough tongue found a pink nipple, licking slowly and teasing the nub with the tip. He sucked hard and the teen gasped in pleasure. Feather-light kisses trailed down and stopped suddenly.

The older man's brows knit together when he found dark bruises marring white skin. "What happened?" He asked, anger and dread already starting to boil.

Tim didn't want to lose this moment, not when they were so close. "It wasn't his fault, don't worry about it." He lied and hoped Jason would forget about it.

It wasn't hard to guess who handprint it was on the teen's arm. "_Wasn't his fault!_ Is this the first time he's done something like this?" The older man demanded to know, shouting louder than he needed to.

Tim was afraid to speak and that moment of hesitation was all the confirmation he needed.

He pushed the teen off as gently as he could, intent on murdering the man he once called 'Father'.

"Jason, please, no!" He called after him, knowing how horrible the consequences were if he failed now. Bruce wouldn't rest until there was a wall between the so high that they would never see each other again.

"I'm not going to wait until he gives you a black eye!" One sadistic fuck of a father was enough and he'd be dammed if he let Tim be pushed around. He was ending this.

Slender arms were thrown around his waist and he could feel tears on his back. "…I'll do anything you want, just don't go." Tim said in a small voice.

Jason's anger evaporated in an instant, left in its wake was guilt and confusion. He wiped the water from the teen's eyes and reminded himself that he caused this. Tim needed him more now than the small victory he would gain from attacking Bruce. He apologized and wanted to make it up to him. He knew shouldn't do this and that Tim would likely regret this in the morning.

The boy lay down on the bed, patiently waiting for his lover. He was blushing like a bride on her wedding night and the adult doubted he had ever been touched before. Tim watched as the older man lifted his shirt over his head. Admittedly the view was lovely, but the bandages left a bad taste in his mouth.

Chapped lips kissed a scar just below the former Robin's navel while his hands caressed his thighs. There was no word of protest as the boy unzipped Jason's jeans and pulled them down to his knees.

Tim's blush darkened at the sight of the man's naked sex. Nervously, he took the large shaft in his hands and felt it harden as he stroked. A soft tongue ran over the tip to catch a translucent drop, finding the taste of salt oddly thrilling.

The boy was clumsy at first and grew more confidant as he heard Jason moan. He teased him painfully with light sucks and lavish licks, never taking him in fully.

It took every drop of self-control not to grab Tim by the hair and fuck his mouth until he choked. Jason tilted his head back and closed his eyes. The only noises in the room were the wet sounds of sucking and slurping.

He felt like he was on fire.

His wish was granted when Tim curled around him and wrapped his lips around the reddened shaft. The way he massaged the bottom side with his tongue was enough to drive a man insane. The teen took a deep breath and suppressed his gag reflex.

The older man could have wept when his tip pressed against the back of Tim's throat. His head started to bob up and down, moaning as it went in straight to the hilt.

Jason's head screamed out that he shouldn't be able to suck him off like that. Everything about this was wrong, he shouldn't be getting off from a sixteen year-old deepthroating him. He'd never been so hard in his life. Jason told him to stop.

The boy clutched his lover's hips, greedily drinking the precum that leaked out. The shaft in his throat throbbed as he moved faster, pressing his face to his lover's curls.

The former Robin came with a scream, violently filling Tim's mouth with hot seed. The fluid was thick like honey and he swallowed every drop. A line of seed ran down the teen's chin, and he was released with a wet 'pop'.

Tim's shining blue eyes were half-lidded in arousal, white stains marked where his milk had spilled onto his face and chest. His erection ached to be touched as it strained against the cloth holding it in place, leaving a wet spot at the tip. The sight was too much to bear and his lover couldn't resist tasting those swollen lips.

The salt of his own seed mixed with Tim's own heady taste made for a powerful aphrodisiac. The kiss was rough and demanding, he nipped at the boy's throat as he tore at his pants. They soon joined the rest of their clothes on the floor.

Tim's body was stunning, young and supple, just at the cusp of adulthood. All firm lines and a strong shaft that sprung proudly from the juncture of his legs. It was the stuff of girls' fantasy. If Jason had any say, he would never know the touch of a woman.

He nestled between the teen's long legs, kissing at the tender flesh of his inner thigh. It would be a lie to say that he didn't enjoy the way Tim clenched the sheets when he teased the puckered slit with his thumb.

A bottle of lotion was found under the bed, and Jason poured the creamy substance onto his fingers. The teen flinched at the cold wetness pushing inside. The first finger easily slid in to the knuckle and the ring of muscle ached to accommodate the second.

The feeling was strange, but also wonderful. The noises Tim was making were embarrassing, and rocked his hips with the rhythm. He cried out his lover's name when three digits stretched him open. There was pain and pleasure in the sound, Jason's name never sounded so sweet.

The sense of fullness was suddenly gone, leaving the boy to wonder what he did wrong.

The older man wrapped Tim's legs around his waist and the teen blushed when something hard pressed against his virgin hole. Cold lotion was coated his heated length and eased the pain as he pushed inside.

The teen screamed, finding the girth unbearable. He was stretched open impossibly wide to swallow every inch of Jason's cock. His legs twitched and shuddered as he was fully sheathed.

Strong hands lifted his hips off the bed, holding tightly as he began to thrust.

The boy's walls were sublime like velvet, caressing him with each movement. The sheer tightness was sinful and incredible at the same time.

Pain was restrained to the slow burn of an ember, hot enough to hurt but felt far too good to let go. Tim's dripping length rubbed against his lover's firm abs, smearing ribbons and occasionally dipping into his navel. He licked the sweat beading on Jason's face.

The angle shifted slightly and it was enough to make the boy see stars. He screamed and arched his back as the thrusts became faster, ravishing the tight body in his grasp. White heat coiled in Tim's belly and he begged for more.

Jason grunted as he rammed it in, enjoying how nonsensical the boy's praises became. He wrapped an arm around the teen's waist, freeing a hand to squeeze his neglected length. The boy clenched and sobbed, passionately bucking his hips to meet his lover's.

Tim was surprisingly vocal, crying out to the world who owned him body and soul. Skin slapped against skin, and the teen's orgasm hit him like a freight train.

He screamed Jason's name as loud as he could and spurted cream all over his hand and stomach. The older man gave a few more deep thrusts before climaxing, filling the boy's insides with his seed.

He pulled out his softening length and his fluid ran down Tim's thighs. Jason lapped up the milk cooling on the boy's stomach like a hungry kitten. The teen giggled as it tickled him.

A heavy blanket was thrown over their nude bodies. They kissed gently and cuddled together as sleep lulled closer. Tim was held to his lover's chest like the most precious thing in the world.


End file.
